Gooood weekend

This past Saturday, our Social Work department hosted the Peace House's very first "Career Panel." Our special guests included my friend Frida Tomito, an A'town resident, currently coordinating exchanges with Arcadia University study abroad and research programs, and Father Jack, a pilot and priest whose parish neighbors the Peace House. The pilot stole the show since most of our students are fascinated by planes as we border the Arusha airport. He had them on the edge of their seats, even showing a DVD of personal footage flying in his Cessna from Austria to Egypt over Sudan and finally landing back in TZ. He encouraged our students to pursue something they're interested in and passionate about as opposed to working for money only; that'll come with time, he explained. Frida pushed the kids to take advantage of this blessing called free (nearly free - each child's family is requested to contribute a mere $20/year for tuition) education.

Jack also encouraged them to read about the career that most tugs at their hearts and minds. If you want to become a pilot, read everything you can on the subject, he advised. Unfortunately, it's nearly impossible for most Tanzanians - especially vulnerable ones - to afford pilot training and certification, but you never know...opportunities could arise later. And you might as well learn about it in the meantime.

Being curious: it's an attribute I've been emphasizing as well in my time with the kids. It's not a cultural norm, but I hope to increase the question-asking habit around campus, particularly amongst the girls. From what I've observed so far, it's minimal. I'm not surprised; this is no different from the other communities I've worked with in TZ. This is the way it is. But it doesn't have to be.

On Sunday after service, we hosted Muindaji, a local musician, who soothed the students like Sade to tunes like "Africa unite" and other Bob Marley and Otis Redding numbers. It was a hit. He was informed this weekend - after a year of living here - that his name is actually Muindaji (Hunter), not Mwindaji (someone who goes). Hmmm. Better too late than never.

During the Sunday service, which is Lutheran in style (our school land is on Lutheran church grounds), our headmistresses' 2-year old son joined me on my lap. Daniel has officially replaced my previous church cuddling partner in Manga, dada Tumaini. There's just something magical about holding a child on your lap. Throughout the service, he sucked LOUDLY on three to four of his fingers. Precious. And he tried on my watch like it was no big thing. He's fascinated with technology; so far my headlamp, watch and keys have provided the most entertainment.

Lutheran we may be, but what about our Muslim students? Where and how do they worship? Hence, my very first question when I arrived to PH. Unfortunately, our hands seem to be tied due to our contractual agreement with the Lutheran church. I wonder if and how this may be changed. Muslim students deserve the opportunity to worship in their own way. Most of the staff say they should just be thankful to be here and should adjust accordingly. Unfortunately, we're a far cry from implementing religious freedom, but hopefully with time, things will change.

I was reminded of the last worship I attended (which I forgot to blog about) when I completely forget an offering; having noticed my lack of change, the boy sitting to my left unhaltingly handed me half of his offering so that I could contribute at that altar as we do here. He had the equivalent of 20 cents. So I gave 10 and he gave 10. True generosity. Though no one can deny the insane level of fisadi or corruption in this country - clearly, at the core of most Tanzanians is this seflessness, an unconditional sense of sharing, giving and loving.

These kids are really growing on me...

"Time is a flowing river. Happy those who allow themselves to be carried, unresisting with the current. They float through easy days. They live, unquestioning, in the moment."
- Christopher Morley

First month of work down. First drumming lesson had.

Some students at our Saturday service day, volunteering farming acumen at a local primary school. A large part of my responsibilities includes planning Saturday and Sunday activities.
Our first away netball match at the International School-Arusha. This is the first time our girls had ever worn position-appropriate jerseys, played on a legitimate court and were reffed using international netball rules. Who knew they existed??
Sauti za Busara - The Sounds of Wisdom, Zanzibar Music Fest in Stonetown's old fort.

Now back to this drumming thing. What?, you ask.

Well, in honor of the new year and my 30th birthday just around the corner, I decided - along with some help/encouragement from my friends - to pursue drumming. Ever since I was a 4th grader at Warren T. Jackson, I've had a strong, unexplicable desire to play drums (too loud, said Mom:). Every time I listen to music, I hone in on the drums. When I dance, it's the beat that takes me away. And here I am, drawn like a magnet to Africa, a continent whose instrument - if one had to choose - would be the drum. Drumming is an essential part of life here, playing a role in every major, cultural event - weddings, funerals, church services, village warning calls, etc. My spirit says go for it. I must give drumming a try. No regrets.

Funny coincidences so far:
-First, a wise woman encouraged me to take drumming lessons; going after a desire that's been left untended will uplift and grow me, right?!
-Second, I attended a wedding where the bride's aunt (50+ years old and wearing a fancy gown, mind you) rocked the drums to "We are Family." She's apparently in a band back in Birmingham. I've never been so awestruck. It was a breathtaking, inspiring performace to say the least.
-Third, last week, I brought my students (pictured above) for netball and soccer matches at a nearby International School and coincidentally, ran into the drumming teacher. What? You have a drumming teacher? Yup. Sign me up.
-Fourth, at a dinner party last weekend, I mentioned my upcoming first lesson and this family brought it to my attention that there's a drum set up for grabs from some family leaving the country! This is getting weird.

And voila, three days after leaving Zanzibar's Music Fest is the inception of my new drumming hobby. I had my first lesson today with instructor Paulus and jamani, it was so much fun - quite a rush. Who knows, next week, I may even have a drum set in my house so I can brush up on beats at my leisure. My students may be a little shocked to hear my practice sessions. I'll have to select non-class/study time.

Welcome to our living room; don't mind the drumset.

Follow your inspiration. To what is it calling you?

Colin Borden (a good friend from Arusha), Hunter and I at the Zanzibar Music Fest last weekend. Not to be missed.
This is a SMISH. What is a SMISH? I'm still waiting on Webster's to get back to me on that. Please send any inquiries to Sarah Flint.